Baby, It’s Cold Outside.
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Baby, it’s cold outside, and you know just how to warm my heart.
You offer me your mittens, but I kindly decline, for my hands are warm, it is my heart that is in need of kindling. You already know that, you are being a gentleman. You are the true definition of a gentleman, you carry matches in your pocket and a starter in your heart. You come ready to share. It is who you are.
Baby, it’s cold outside, but you feel no chill.
You know how to lead, you require no instruction. I love that. I need that. It allows me to surrender. I am independent and courageous and unafraid, but I get tired. I cherish when you relieve my fatigue with your presence, and remind me to make snow angels and leave footprints in the sand. You are beautiful.
Beautiful in the way you live and move through life. Beautiful in your choices and in your actions.
You are the most beautiful reminder of a love stacked with dreams, of solid and secure, stable and unwavering. Soft kisses and a firm grasp.
My heart lay resting and beating in a softly christened life of love and longing. It shone blindingly parallel to the brightest star in the sky, so vivid and clear, even you saw it a thousand miles away.
Two courageous, inquisitive and venturesome spirits warmed in the sweetest blend, sending us far into a galaxy others find hard to understand. But we understand, and that is what counts.
When life demands reality, we surrender to a fairy tale others long to live. To soak up kisses along with bills, and memories with chores, to stop and stare and breathe. To inhale a moment with saturated make-believe. Droplets of stardust and snowflakes imprinting on a soul for life.
It is not an escape, it is a way that makes everyday living a day to live again. It is the magic in the real that generates the reel of life.
“You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It’s just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.” ~ Paulo Coelho
It is in chaos and thunder that we deafen the noise with an interlocking finger or a trace around the lips. It is in the loudest moments we desire the faintest touch. The simple sleight of hand to remind us that life keeps moving and it is we who need to slow it down.
Baby, it’s cold outside, and I want you near.
I want to feel your warmth, your breath and your heartbeat, as I disappear into your sweetly absorbed thoughts on life. Whisper to me your stories, and unload your burdens on my chest. I will carry the weight of us both, until I too collapse and hand them over to you to haul. That is what we do. We share.
We share our lives, our love, our burdens and our load. No matter how heavy or how light.
Baby, it’s cold outside, and I need your mittens. My heart is warm, but my hands are cold. My life is heavy, and I am shivering. And there you are. You offer me your mittens, and bathe me in your coat. You light a fire, a candle, and cover me in wool.
Baby, it’s cold outside, and I am happy you are here. With me. In life.
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